


Playing with Fire

by crabbybun



Category: Instinct (TV 2018)
Genre: Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 12:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15048557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crabbybun/pseuds/crabbybun
Summary: Despite being happily married, Dylan finds himself longing for someone else.





	Playing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> BEFORE YOU READ
> 
> So idk who else is actually watching this show, but I am and that's because Alan Cumming is my Bisexual Icon (tm) with a bonus that I get darkly sexy Naveen Andrews. 
> 
> Who has a terrible habit in this show of giving Alan sex eyes every time they're on screen together. I can't unsee it, so! Have some bad fanfiction about that brief affair. This is set sometime before episode 11.

Dylan Reinhart was the type of man to overthink everything.  Every behavior, every conversation, every interaction, replayed over and over again in his mind.  Always looking for abnormalities in his own behavior, clues in other people’s that would give him insight into their lives; a desperate search for information that he had always collected in his mind.  Now, he wasn’t his father; his intent was never to use the information he collected against others. That’s one of the reasons he left the spy business. No, Dylan was simply fascinated by the human condition.  People found new ways to surprise and delight him every day. So he kept watching them, and analyzing them. 

This behavior of his extended to those close to him as well, which was actually why he was so successful in his personal life.  It was how he was able to tell so masterfully when his partner was obsessing over something on their case, or when his husband was feeling neglected in their personal lives. It made him masterful at small talk, and a great gift giver.  It also put him in a constant battle with his own brain; Dylan was always making sure nothing in his behavior was ever out of line, ever off-putting - more than what might be deemed acceptable anyway. He liked flamboyance, after all, but there was a fine line between eccentric and abnormal.  Between that and his father’s voice in his head, he had become more than a little self-analytic and self-critical. 

So when he found himself texting Julian for less than important things, he analyzed it.  And when he felt like Julian was starting to avoid him, he analyzed that too. He certainly liked working with Julian again, especially since the other man had left the Agency as well.  But that didn’t explain the almost intrusive urge to keep in constant contact with the other man. Dylan was becoming distracted by it, but didn’t know what was causing it, and in order to resolve that, he probably had to talk to Julian, which was exactly what he thought he was doing too much of to begin with.  It was driving Dylan in circles, which was beginning to give him anxiety. But none of it was action, which Dylan knew he was going to have to buckle down and go do instead. 

That was how Dylan ended up in Julian’s little underground hideaway in the middle of the afternoon.  This whole thing was stressing him out so bad he couldn’t focus on his cases, or his classes, or on anything really so he had finally taken action.  Telling his partner he was going out for lunch, he had come to Julian’s under similarly false pretenses; pretending to need help with his latest NYPD case - a man found dead in his home, open mail in his hand, pile beside him, with a bullet in his head.  The most interesting part to Dylan was how the killer left the bullet displayed on the coffee table in front of him. Well, that was the spiel Dylan launched into when he arrived, acutely aware that he was talking and pacing rather nervously while he did so.  

Julian sat there and watched Dylan pace silently, slightly bored.  It was easy to tell that Dylan was on edge, and he suspected that it had nothing to do with the case he was currently working.  In fact, Dylan had been doing this a lot recently, Julian had noticed - contacting him a lot more than usual, with requests far below his abilities.  Julian suspected there was something more behind it, but these trifles bored him and he had stopped responding to most of them. Which was probably the other part of the reason Dylan was here today, or at least, a decent enough excuse to get him here.  But it wasn’t the whole reason, Julian was sure. He spoke suddenly, cutting Dylan off mid-sentence, “Is everything alright with you at home? Between you and Andy, I mean.”

The abrupt question blindsided Dylan, and he stood paralyzed for a moment, looking to Julian like a deer in headlights.  A million things ran through Dylan’s mind, about why Julian would ask that question right then and about the body language signals Dylan might have been giving off.  It took Dylan a moment to compose himself enough to answer, “Yeah, everything’s fine; we’re doing great. Why would you ask that? It has nothing to do with...anything I’ve been talking about.”

“You’ve been blathering on like a teenage girl for the past five minutes,” Julian replied coolly, “You’ve been blowing my phone up with bullshit for the past six weeks, and you’re as nervous right now discussing your case with me as when you came out to your father.  If you weren’t happily married, I would think you had a crush.” Dylan turned five shades of red. Julian’s eyes narrowed. “You  _ don’t  _ have a crush, do you?” he asked skeptically.  Dylan gulped. 

  
This is the part Dylan had been having a hard time admitting to himself.  Working with the NYPD meant that he no longer got regular sleep - not as bad as when he was with the Agency, but he didn’t generally sleep much and Lizzie had a habit of not sleeping herself.  Lately, when he did sleep, his dreams were haunted; he found Julian’s deep eyes and intense demeanor were almost following him and that feeling stayed with him in his waking life. It was probably why his reflections hadn’t been getting anywhere; Dylan had been avoiding thinking about the connection between his dreams and his almost obsessive need to be around Julian.  But that was because Dylan really  _ was  _ happily married; there was no reason on Earth Dylan should have a crush on Julian.  

But there it was.  A crush explained everything: his need to hear from Julian, his intense desire to just be in the other man’s presence, the recurring thoughts and dreams.  Dylan wasn’t necessarily a stranger to this idea; there had been some flirtation, some tension between the two back when they were young and working at the Agency.  But they were both older people now;  _ different  _ people now.  For all intents and purposes, this relationship should be purely professional and Dylan knew they were both perfectly capable of keeping it that way.  The problem was that he also knew that they were both perfectly capable of changing that in an instant. 

Julian took Dylan’s silence on the matter as a confirmation.  It did explain Dylan’s strange behavior, and Julian had to admit he felt flattered.  The flirtation back at the Agency in their youth had been two-sided, and he had wanted confirmation from Dylan before he came forward that he never quite got.  Too nervous to take the lead then, he had let the other man slip away and had never quite let go of that. Time changed a lot of things, Julian reflected as he smiled and walked slowly toward Dylan.  

“Well, well, well,” he chuckled darkly, more to himself than to Dylan, “how the tables have turned.”

“Pardon?” Dylan asked, startled by Julian’s sudden movement, taken aback by the breaking of the silence that had descended, and a little scared by the sudden spike in confidence he was displaying. 

“I was infatuated with you, years ago,” Julian said, “the way you carried yourself, the way you worked, your intensity...all of it enthralled me.  We flirted, but I could never tell if you were serious or not. You never gave me enough; I wanted you unconditionally and I couldn’t even tell if you were actually available or not.  Then you married Andy, and left the Agency, and I shoved all that away and moved on. Yet, here you stand. For no discernable reason either.” Dylan swallowed hard as Julian came to a stop mere inches from where he stood.  

“What’s changed?” Julian asked, voice so low as to nearly be a whisper.  His dark eyes softened as he looked Dylan up and down, “If you’re so happy, what could I possibly give you?” When his eyes met Dylan’s face, they were shining with both hope and trepidation.

“I don’t know,” Dylan admitted softly with a sigh, “I wish there was some excuse, some way I could rationalize it away.  I love Andy, I really do, and he hasn’t done anything to make me want out of our relationship. But I still have this intense desire to see you.  I find myself getting excited at the thought of you, I  _ dream  _ of you, and there’s no earthly reason why…” he trailed off, slightly uncomfortable to be having this conversation now, particularly with Julian so close to him.  He had envisioned having this conversation over a lunch or something. 

Julian smiled a little. “Maybe there doesn’t have to be,” he murmured, “Why bother making excuses?  After all, we are ex-CIA operatives. Keeping secrets is supposed to be what we’re good at. I can keep my mouth shut, if you can.”  Julian crept into Dylan’s personal space even more, slowly testing the boundaries the other man was willing to put up, if any. Dylan groaned softly as he felt a stirring in his nethers and his brain began to short circuit.  Julian made a good point, and as Dylan’s eyes left Julian’s and moved to his lips, his breath caught a little. Julian’s lips were so plump, and so close, and he was  _ right there _ .  

Dylan made the decision to jump just as Julian decided to stop waiting.  The kiss was heated; Julian was pressed up against Dylan, who was backed up against a table.  Dylan’s hand snaked its way to the back of Julian’s neck, intensifying the action. When they broke apart for air, Dylan pressed their foreheads together.  

“We should stop this.  Now,” Dylan whispered, almost pleadingly.  

“I don’t see you stopping though,” Julian countered, “and I’m got no motivation to myself.”  His lips connected with Dylan’s again briefly, chastely, as he felt Dylan pulling away from him.  

“Me either,” Dylan replied, “But...we shouldn’t do this here.”  He looked around at the sparse area, consisting of a bank of computer monitors on a desk, a table, and two chairs total.

“Agreed,” Julian said, “I do know of an unoccupied Agency safe house close by…”

“Yeah, okay,, that’s a start,” Dylan whispered breathlessly, lips lightly brushing Julian’s.  He heard Julian groan lightly beneath him and reluctantly push himself away. His eyes were even darker and more unreadable than usual.  Dylan’s breath was taken away, even as the feelings of guilt rose in his gut.

Dylan mulled on what he was doing as he left the hideaway.  Like true spies, the pair were to leave separately, subsequently arriving separately and at separate times.  Unfortunately the plan left Dylan alone in his own head, where there was a war going on. His first thought was about how easy his background made having an affair.  Especially an affair with Julian. For one, the man was another spy; he was great at lying and keeping secrets so the two of them made a fairly impenetrable force. Andy would never discover an incongruent story, or abnormal behavior.  For two, his kiss with Julian had been exactly what he dreamed and his worst nightmare rolled into one. It certainly satisfied whatever he had been craving and now he longed for more. The whole idea was so seductive, but he kept flashing back to Andy’s face; his husband was so innocent and so loving didn’t deserve any of this.

Dylan was pacing the floor of the safehouse by the time Julian arrived.  This “safehouse” was an unoccupied apartment in the back of a run-down complex, and Dylan could hear Julian’s approach, which put every nerve in his body on alert.  His heart rate rose, and his breath shortened as he heard the gap close, and the other man burst through the door like a whirlwind, taking the air out of the room. Julian rushed at Dylan, barely closing the door behind him, and engulfed the taller man back into a heated embrace.  Dylan was overcome with adrenaline once more, clutching Julian to him initially and indulging his fantasy. However, he simply couldn’t let his guilt go; Dylan found images of Andy flashing behind his eyes, making him pull back from Julian. 

“Wait, wait,” he said, putting up a hand.  Julian instantly pulled way back, placing about a half a foot of space between him and Dylan.  

“You’ve changed your mind,” he said, matter-of-factly. Then he smiled slightly.  “I should have known. Given enough time, you can talk yourself out of anything.”

“ _ And  _ I love my husband,” Dylan said softly, “ as much as I want this,” he closed the distance between himself and Julian, and took the smaller man’s chin in his hand “as much as I want  **you** , I can’t do it at the expense of Andy.  I can’t... make him a casualty.” 

Julian pulled away and placed a little more space between him and Dylan, leaning against a doorway.  He looked at Dylan again and nodded. “I respect that,” he said. He smiled brilliantly at Dylan. “I enjoyed the taste that I got.” His smile faltered somewhat as he continued, “Just don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me for a while.”

And like that, Julian was gone and Dylan was alone in the apartment, trembling slightly.  He sighed shakily, and ran a hand through his hair before seeming to come to himself. He grabbed his phone and his helmet as he left.

It was sometime later before he was home and reflecting on his misdeeds.  He was deep in thought in one of the leather armchairs of the study when Andy announced his presence by bouncing a Nerf basketball off his husband’s head.  

Dylan turned to see his husband smiling.  “I thought of coming in and saying “penny for your thoughts,” but then I thought that this would be funnier,” he said, stooping to pick up the ball, “What has you so deep in thought today?”

Dylan didn’t answer right away, taking a moment to absorb how his husband was right then.  How he looked happy and carefree. He had been thinking about how much he didn’t  _ want  _ to do this, but he had almost lost Andy once by keeping secrets and he wasn’t going to risk that again.  He  _ had  _ to talk about this, whether he liked it or not.  

Dylan looked up at Andy and smiled sadly.  “Would you mind having a seat?” he asked, his voice breaking somewhat as he motioned to another chair close by, “I...there’s something we need to talk about.”


End file.
